Grissom Bows Out
by SylvieT
Summary: Greg plans one last breakfast for Grissom with the team before his departure. Some surprises in store for Grissom - speech, presents, a surprise return and a ride or two. Spoiler for season 9. GSR. No angst, just fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**This instalment in my series is set a week or so before Grissom's departure, somewhere between episodes 909 '19 down' and 910 'One to go'.**

**Sadly, we are getting near the end of this journey…hope you enjoy this! **

Alone in the break room, slouching at the table, Greg was looking over the Ian Wallace/ Justine Stefani and past 'Dick and Jane murders' case files, concentrating hard trying to find new evidence or common threads that would lead them to a new suspect.

Grissom walked in, empty cup of coffee in hand and unaware of Greg's presence, he made a bee-line for the coffee machine for a refill.

"I just made a new pot" stated Greg, not looking up from reviewing his files, startling Grissom out of his reverie.

"Thanks. What have you got?" seeing the case files, he added, "anything new?"

"Nah, nada. Didn't think it could hurt to look at it again, though."

Grissom nodded his head in acknowledgement, cautiously taking a sip of his coffee while unsuccessfully scanning the shelves in the break room for his misplaced copy of 'Fruitless Fall'.

After a minute or so of companionable silence, Greg muttered matter of fact looking up from his reading:

"It was inevitable, wasn't it?" Seeing Grissom frown, he explained with a small smile, "You leaving, I mean."

Grissom was unable to hide his surprise.

"I mean, if I had been you, I'd have done it a long time ago…"

"Yes but, Greg, you're not me" interrupted an amused Grissom.

"I _know_ that, Grissom, and to my eternal regret, for she chose _you_."

"She _did_, didn't she?" Grissom said jokingly. The new, revised Grissom could tease as well as the next man.

"Still," continued the younger man undeterred, "better late than never…"

Grissom arched an eyebrow, "…is a poor consolation for the man who has lost the opportunity of a lifetime."

"Russell?"

"No, me." Both men were silent for a moment pondering that thought with differing points of view.

"Oh come on, Griss, spill. I won't tell. Why now?" Greg light-heartedly demanded to know. He couldn't contain his excitement.

"Why not?" countered Grissom unflustered. "So many reasons" he then continued more pensively, almost to himself.

"For all it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing."

"Well, thank you Greg. I'll miss you too" said Grissom tongue in cheek.

"Nah, you won't. You'll be far too busy."

"True." He said enigmatically making his way towards the door.

"On another note, I spoke to Catherine and she said you didn't want a big party or anything but," he paused, "what about breakfast?" _No cakes in the break room_ had been Catherine's exact words, no mentions of goodbye breakfast.

Grissom's lips pursed into a smile, glasses pushed down to the tip of his nose "I guess I _could _do breakfast, we did take a rain check the other day, we should celebrate you making level three. I might even buy!"

"Well, wonders will never cease, but you know… people _will_ want to say goodbye."

"Nothing big, OK Greg?" he conceded after a moment after removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"Alriiight!" said Greg excitedly, thinking that his boss had definitely mellowed in the last few weeks. "Sorry boss. Won't be big, promised." _Cross my heart and hope to die,_ he added silently making a big song and dance of crossing his heart and then casually picking up the files that lay discarded on the table.

Grissom turned to walk out of the break room, cup still in hand, shaking his head in disbelief ignoring Greg's little display of childishness.

He'd never agreed to anything, had he?

**Tbc?**

**Your reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you. **

**A/N: The book Grissom is looking for is "Fruitless Fall: A Collapse of the Honey Bee and the Coming Agricultural Crisis" By Rowan Jacobsen. (Bloomsbury 2008)**


	2. Chapter 2

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A/N: In the middle of the chapter, there is a shift in POV from Greg to Sara. I hope it isn't too confusing but I wanted to explain Sara' conflicting emotion…

**Greg's ringtone is "Use Somebody" by the wonderful Kings of Leon.**

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Chapter two.

The next day, Sunset Park, Las Vegas.

"_I hope it's gonna make you notice someone like meeeee, Woh oh oh oh oh, someone like meeee, oh somebo-" _Damn, where's the damn thing now?" he wondered desperately patting his shorts pockets, getting bemused glances from passers-by.

"Sanders" panted a sweaty, lycra-clad Greg into his cell phone.

"Greg! Is that you?"

"Yeah" he wheezed, slowing down his running to a slow jog.

"Are you at the _gym_?" she asked in amazement.

"No...at the… park" He said breathing hard, doubling up over himself and then added more cheerfully: "Hey! You're back. I was just thinking about calling you!"

"The park? Are you trying to impress the _laaadies_ by any chance?"

He smiled. A bench! He could see a bench in the distance.

"Something like that… How are you?"

"Good, relaxed, happy." She sounded it too.

"You brought me something back?" He asked cheekily, hearing a chuckle on the line.

"Greg! You'll just have to wait… Anyway, I hear congrats are in order."

"Thank you. News travel fast, I see"

"Well, I _was_ a CSI once; I've got some reliable sources…"

"It would appear!" He exclaimed playfully.

"Nick said you were nearing your hundredth case last time he e-mailed me and I got confirmation last week. I'll buy you a beer when I'm in town."

"What do you mean _last week_? Grissom only told _me_ on Monday..." he said_. So these two have been talking, hey… _

"Well…"

"Wow, back up a little! You're coming here?" he shoutedinto the phone. People were starting to stare at him, giving him funny glances.

"You don't think I should?" She inquired.

"You know he's leaving, right?" he was almost whispering now.

"I heard."

"He's missing you. And so am I." Greg added a little more softly.

"Well, if you ask so nicely, I guess I'm definitely coming then." She said grinning. "I'd like to see for myself how my star pupil's doing." He could hear the joy in her voice.

"Weehee!"

"Listen Greg, can we keep this between us? I don't want him to know I'm coming."

"Sure, why not?"

She didn't reply. _Why not?_ She distractedly wondered.

Coming to Vegas was a big deal for her, especially after what had happened the last time she had been there. Her return when Warrick died hadn't turned out quite how she had planned. She had hoped for the impossible, really, and had realised it too late. Grissom would never leave it all – well, not for her anyway, even temporarily.

But what now? She knew he was leaving. She had been the first person he had told when his decision had been made.

Could she trust him? The only way this was going to work was if her coming back to Vegas was on her terms. She would see for herself first, and then decide whether or not to believe it.

She had read the many e-mails he had sent her over the last few months and had chosen not to respond, except through the video she had e-mailed him. A clean break, that's what she had been hoping for, but surprisingly – or not, it had not worked.

Every time she opened her in-box to see a new message, whether in San Francisco or on the Sea Shepherd at sea thousands of miles away, her heart skipped a beat hoping that it was from him. And she soon realised that every time she did get a message from him, it filled her with joy however sad the words were.

At first, he had been apologetic about his harsh words concerning the Adler case, about not going on the trip with her, saying what he had said to her in his office that day – or not said as was the case.

Then, he had been full of torment; the cases were getting to him, he was making mistakes, not answering calls, he was missing them – her and Warrick. He had even mentioned his worry over Hank's listlessness; she had almost relented then but had kept strong.

Lately, his writing was more hopeful, he spoke of the future – their future, of leaving CSI, Vegas; he claimed he had turned a corner. He had chosen _her_. She had needed him to do this on his own and not for her. It had taken him long enough.

His last message had blown her away_._ That's when he had told her about Greg's promotion, his letter of resignation to Ecklie and that he had started to pack up his office. Wow! Yet, she still needed to see it with her own eyes.

"Sara? Sara? You still there?" asked Greg after a while, wondering whether he had lost the connection or whether she had ended the call. He startled her out of her daydreaming when he raised his voice.

"Mmm. What? Yeah, sorry. What did you say?"

"Nevermind… Look, Sara, I'm trying to get everybody together at Frank's for a _low key_ farewell breakfast, do you think you could make it? Everyone would love to see you. That way we kill several birds at once."

She laughed again. "Greg, listen, I'm flying in at the weekend and I'll let you know… How does that work for you?"

"Great. You want to stay at mine?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah…That way, I get the first hug!"

"In that case, I'd love to. I'll call you when I've landed."

"It's going to be _awesome_."

"Bye Greg." She cut him off, giggling. Some things would never change.

With that, he got up from the bench he had collapsed on, pocketed his mobile and made his way home with a new spring in his step and a mischievous smile on his face.

He had a breakfast to plan…

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To be continued?

**Thank you for reading and please let me know if you like it...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the reviews and to those who have put the story in their alert stories. Please, let me know what you think, whether I 've kept everyone in character and if I should continue! **

**Thanks.**

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Frank's diner; Grissom's farewell breakfast.

Greg nervously looked at his watch. 8 a.m. _Where was everybody?_

Since the diner was almost deserted – albeit for a few unis, no doubt at the end of their shift too, he had the pick of the tables and chose one towards the back.

The news was on, muted images of the latest celebs dancing around on the screen and he thought back to the last time they had had breakfast together as a team.

Surely, they had returned since, hadn't they? Well, as far as he could remember, not all together.

It had been such a happy occasion. Warrick had been cleared of all charges in the Gedda murder, he himself was about to fly to LA to meet his publishers about his book. Unbeknown to them all, this would be their very last gathering, well apart from Sara. _Sara, she would be there this time_ he hoped.

When he had heard the news about Warrick from Catherine, he had been forced to reschedule his meeting and due to the delay, his book was only just currently at the printers'. He had managed to clinch the very first copy and he knew his boss would appreciate his parting gift. _His boss_, he thought with melancholy, _well, sadly not for very much longer._

The waitress made her way towards the table, coffee pot in hand, startling him out of his daydream.

"Coffee?" she asked with a friendly smile.

"Thanks" he smiled back.

"Anything to eat?"

"I'm meeting some friends, they shouldn't be much longer" he added turning to look if anyone was coming yet.

He glanced at the diner clock for the fifth time. It now showed 8:15.

He was fervently tapping his foot on the greasy floor in impatience, nervously turning around every few minutes checking the door for signs of his friends' arrival. What was taking them so long?

He had really wanted to go against Grissom's wishes and throw a big party but Catherine had kindly reminded him when he shared his original plan with her, that Grissom would run a mile, well figuratively for he had yet to see Grissom run – let alone a mile, if he went ahead with it. So he had kept it low key; and Frank's it was!

He couldn't wait for everyone to be there.

After waiting another few endless minutes, Greg fumbled for his phone, got it out of his pocket and worriedly speed-dialled 3.

"Nick, where are you, man? Why aren't you here yet?"

"Wow! Slow down, Greggo! Where's the fire?" Nick asked with a smile.

"I'm at _Frank's_."

"So?"

"I'm on my lonesome!"

"Relax! Riley and I will be there in five. We're still at the lab, we've just got to pick up, you know…"

"Good, OK, have you seen Catherine?"

"She went home. Something to do with Linds, I think. Said she'll meet us there."

"Alright. See you when you get here."

He quickly rang off and called Brass.

"Brass" answered the gruff detective.

"It's Greg, what's keeping you?"

"Huh? What do you mean? Didn't you say 8:30? We'll be there."

"Nooo, no, no. 8.00. Jim, we said 8.00."

"Relax, Greg, I'm messing with you. I'm with the Doc, we're on our way to Grissom's office now. Stop fretting. We'll _escort_ him if we have to." Brass hurriedly rattled off before Greg had time to interrupt him.

"Excellent" Greg exclaimed but Brass had already hung up.

8:25. _Finally!_ Catherine came in smiling, motioning for the waitress to bring her some coffee.

"Where's everybody?" She wondered, sitting down opposite Greg on the long leather-like brown bench.

"On their way, I hope. Lindsey all right?"

"Yeah, I've just dropped her off at school. Did you manage to sort…?"

Just at that moment, Grissom, Brass and Doc Robbins walked in laughing and proceeded to sit themselves down, Grissom pulling up a chair to the head of the table.

"Care to share the joke?" asked Catherine.

"Sure" said Doc Robbins slightly moving back for the waitress to serve them coffee. "Grissom and I were telling Jim of the time the rat escaped from the morgue..."

"A _rat_? I never heard that story" said a puzzled Catherine, convinced that she had heard of all the stories and gossip going round the lab.

"Well, we tried to keep it quiet, as you can imagine" laughed Al.

"And Al, here, put on a _Hazmat_ suit, and what's worse, made poor Dave wear one as well…"continued Grissom shaking his head at the memory.

"I _hate_ rats" interrupted a disgruntled Doc Robbins.

"…and that, even before we got near the _beast_" resumed a mocking Grissom. He was smiling broadly and looked like he was enjoying himself.

_Ah! The men in their hazmat suits! I clearly remember the last time I saw the men in their hazmat gear, _mused Greg wistfully, remembering very vividly the time he and Sara had been pulled out of a scene to be made to share a disinfecting shower there and then. That day was forever implanted on his brain. He was so lost in his thoughts that he was unaware that he had been grinning to himself like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh, you should have seen _his_ face" Doc Robbins continued teasingly, pointing at Grissom "when we found that poor creature burnt to a crisp in the electrical circuit box. Grissom had the same beatific look that our friend Greg, here, is currently sporting. Look" he said nodding his head towards a still daydreaming Greg.

They all laughed.

"God! was he enjoying himself! I thought he was going to magically conjure up a scalpel out of thin air and conduct a necropsy at the scene" finished Al.

"I thought better of it and let you do the honours… That was fun, wasn't it?" added Grissom light-heartedly.

"Yeah, it was" agreed Al with a serious tone.

Nick and Riley chose that moment to arrive and join the group. Brass got up to let Riley sit next to Greg and squeezed himself on the end of the bench while Nick put the box he was carrying on the floor before pulling another chair to sit near Grissom. He gave Grissom a gentle pat on the shoulder and said:

"Nice to see you've come, boss. We had our doubts."

"Well, I wasn't given much of a choice, was I?" Grissom replied looking at Brass, arching an eyebrow and smiling. "Jim, here, literally frog-marched me down to the diner as if I was one of his suspects. I was hardly going to resist" he continued, raising his hands up in mock surrender.

"I had my cuffs just in case" added Brass seriously, nodding and patting his belt for more effect.

Only Brass and Doc Robbins knew how close they had been to not finding Grissom at all. When they had got to his office, they had found it empty; they had searched the lab, only to be told by an ever helpful Hodges that he had seen Grissom sneak out the back door carrying a large box. The latter had almost made his escape before they found him loading his car with his gear. Whether he had been on his way over or home was another matter.

"Well, now that we're all here" said Greg rubbing his hands together "we can order, I'm starving."

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We're getting nearer to the speeches and a few surprises for Grissom… I'll update tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you think about Catherine. Have I managed to keep her in character?**

**Thanks.**

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After the food was cleared and having run out of stories to tell, there was a lull in the conversation and the attention focused once more on Grissom.

"What? Have I got food…?" He uncomfortably asked, wiping his bearded chin.

"Well… no speech?" wondered Brass humorously.

"Sorry to disappoint, Jim, but no."

"No words of wisdom, no famous quote, no parting advice?" countered Nick.

Grissom hesitated a moment _well, if that's what they want, why not?_ and proceeded to quote one of his favourite authors:

"_I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately,_

_To front only the essential facts of life,_

_And see if I could not learn what it had to teach,_

_And not, when I came to die,_

_Discover that I had not lived."_

"Well… that covers that" said Brass uncertainly, clasping his hands together. _What the hell was that all about?_

"_I'_ll say something, um, we'll all understand then" continued Catherine nervously. "I've known you, what, more than fifteen years?" she asked addressing Grissom.

He nodded his agreement.

"And in that time, I've see many facets to you. First and foremost, the geeky scientist with his mad experiments" Grissom raised his eyebrows worriedly. _Geeky? This does not bode well, not well at all._

"Sorry, Gil, but true" she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Remember the pint of blood well past its expiry date in the break room fridge?" she asked Nick. Riley almost gagged at the thought while Nick laughed out loud and said:

"I had forgotten about that. You had run out of space in the lab fridge…" he said turning to Grissom, "None of us had the guts to say anything to you about it; man, that really smelled rank" he added pursing his face in disgust. "God, remember Sara's face? Priceless!"

They all laughed.

Catherine continued her improvised speech pondering carefully her next words.

"Then, the brilliant CSI and teacher who follows the evidence wherever it may take him, and "_if it changes, so must the theory_"", she proceeded to quote, attempting a poor imitation of his voice; "someone who will do anything, _anything_," she said scrunching her face in disgust, "to get to the truth – or get one of _us_ to do it. Every single day I've known you, have worked with you, you've taught me – _us_, a new thing or a new procedure, shown us a new way at looking at the evidence, made us question every little detail. You've been an excellent mentor to us all and I just hope I can be just half as good a mentor as you."

She paused pondering her next words. They were all waiting, smiling as she took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee.

"And then, there's the entomologist, a man _so_ passionate about his bugs," she carried on, miming inverted commas with her fingers as she said the word 'bugs', "that we all learnt to love them too – well, some of us more than others" she continued shuddering at the thought of some of the ugliest creepy-crawlies they had come across.

"Not forgetting of course, the supervisor;" she chose to address him directly this time. "You've always led the team admirably, Gil, constantly had our backs covered, ready to defend and protect us, getting _us all_, and I include Sara and Warrick in this, out of tight spots on many occasions..." she paused. "Yours will be hard shoes to fill, Gil."

"You'll do a great job" he told her convincingly.

She smiled. "Don't interrupt or I'll lose my thread and I'm not done yet. Where was I?"

"The supervisor bit" supplied Greg avidly awaiting the rest.

"Ah! Now, the man, a friend to us all and I, for one, am very grateful for your unwavering friendship despite our differences over the years, so thank you."

Grissom appeared uncomfortable under all the attention, humbled by her speech; he was now looking down at his shoes, unable to meet anybody's gaze without showing his emotion.

"When you're gone…" she resumed with a tear in her eye but she couldn't finish so instead she asked: "Can I keep your pig?"

Grissom suddenly looked up at her in surprise, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"My foetal pig? I thought you hated the poor thing… She's all yours" he managed to say, unsuccessfully trying to swallow the knot in his throat.

She simply nodded her head.

"I'm going to miss you, Gil" she finally said getting up to embrace him. He returned the gesture and gently touched Catherine's cheek in an attempt to wipe a stray tear from just below her eye.

"I'll miss you too, Catherine, all of you. Thank you for …" he added, gesturing with his right hand, searching for the correct words and not finding them.

When all was said, Doc Robbins stood, coffee cup in hand and exclaimed raising it:

"To Grissom"

"To Grissom" they repeated.

"And to your future, Gil" added Brass sombrely.

"I'll drink to that" said Doc Robbins, "shame it's only coffee!"

The group of friends became silent in contemplation of Catherine's words, so, in an attempt to lighten the mood, Nick decided that it was as good a time as ever to give Grissom his presents. Grissom was grateful for the change in direction and smiled his thanks to Nick who nodded his head in understanding.

Grissom quirked his eyebrows in shock when handed the strangely-shaped box, and to everyone's amazement, he gingerly shook it to make sure nothing untoward was going to spring at him or worse.

"Should I get my latex gloves out?" he joked, examining the box with the deft experience of a seasoned CSI.

When he felt it was safe enough to do so, he carefully opened it:

"A fishing rod?" He shot them a startled look.

"And not _any_ fishing rod!" exclaimed Riley. "Hodges assures me it's _the_ best for fishing in the rivers of California, or any rivers for that matter" she quickly added sheepishly as Greg nudged her in the ribs and Doc Robbins burst out loud laughing.

She had had to endure a long debate on the pros and cons of the carbon fibre rods versus the more traditional ones – made of fibreglass, after losing the bet with Nick and Greg as to who would ask Hodges, for the man was surprisingly knowledgeable on the subject.

"Don't look at me" added Greg pointing the finger at Nick, "it was _his_ idea."

"Just thought it was appropriate, you know, after our talk." Nick said quietly.

Grissom nodded knowingly. "Thank you" was all he managed to choke out while getting out a second gift, a smaller box containing elaborately-crafted flies.

"Megaloptera" he announced with a knowing nod.

"Glad they meet with your approval" laughed Brass.

"We thought that with all the free time you're going to have, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself and you'd need a new hobby…" added Catherine with a sad smile.

"We all chipped in" Greg carried on excitedly. "And I've got one more, I hope you like it."

"I didn't _authorise_ this" said Catherine teasingly.

"Strictly speaking you're not my boss yet, Catherine."

They became quiet when they saw Grissom's face as he unwrapped the book, turned it over, saw the title, smiled and read the inscription inside. He lifted his gaze up to meet Greg's expectant one but could find no words to express his gratitude.

"That's Norwegian for _thank you for everything_" said Greg, pointing at the words.

"I will treasure it, Greg." Grissom said nervously turning the book in his hands. "I know how excited you've been doing all the research about Old Vegas… Hang on a sec…Can you call this copy a _first edition_, then?" he asked with undisguised excitement.

Greg could only nod his head with pride, shrugging his shoulders shyly as a little boy would.

"You can add it to your collection," added Brass sarcastically, earning reproaching sideway glances from both Catherine and Doc Robbins. He shrugged an innocent _what do I know?_ in response.

Grissom slowly got up and held out his hand to shake the younger man's, who returned the feeling by pulling his boss into an awkward hug.

"What does it say, Gil?" Brass asked quietly as Grissom sat back down while opening the book for Brass to read.

The carefully hand-written note read:

To Grissom,

"Take time to deliberate,

But when the time for action arrives

Stop thinking and go in."

May the future bring you happiness and fulfilment

Takk for alt.

Best wishes,

Greg.

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Meanwhile, an unnoticed taxi pulled up outside the diner.

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A/N: Grissom's quote is from Thoreau's

**Walden**** (1854)**

**The quote in Greg's note is from Andrew Jackson.**

**Just in case you're wondering why I chose a fishing rod as a present and what talk between Nick and Grissom I'm referring to, it's not from one of the episodes in particular – although I originally thought of the idea because of Grissom's comment at the beginning of '19 Down', but rather from my previous story titled 'Farewell Nick'.**

**Please, make my day and leave a review, good or bad. Thank you.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you very much to everybody who is reading, leaving a review and putting the story in their favourites. It means a lot!**

**Finally, what we've all been waiting for!**

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Meanwhile an unnoticed taxi pulled up outside and after paying the driver, its occupant hesitantly got out, sunglasses in place, and began scanning the inside of the diner for signs of her friends.

She smiled when she recognised Greg's silhouette by the window, his back to her and Catherine, seated across from him laughing whole-heartedly. She felt a pang of sadness at the sight of her friends, friends she had missed tremendously since she had left Vegas.

She didn't regret leaving, she had had no choice – it was either that or self-destruct, and she didn't miss the work either – all her new experiencesand travelling since her departure had filled that void and opened up a whole new world for her; but she had missed the contact of her friends, the only people she had grown to trust and love over the years – something thatdidn't come naturally or easily to her. And most importantly, she had missed _him_.

The others were hidden from view, the dimness of the diner not helped by the brightness of the day but she had no doubt that everyone closest to Grissom had come to bid their farewell.

She seemed uncertain about her next move. She looked around and headed in. _Come on, girl, chin up. No turning back_.

If his friends had been paying any notice, they couldn't have failed to see that Grissom had stopped joining in their banter, they would have taken in his gasp, his bewildered look when he caught a glimpse of the woman standing by the door, sunglasses in hand, his attention utterly captivated by her form.

It was as if time had stopped.

They stared at each other for a full minute in rapt fascination, utterly unaware of their surrounding, him in disbelief and her in wonderment, as she saw his features range from utter surprise to a look of pure joy.

Was he so tired that his eyes were playing tricks on him? Was her presence a mirage, a dream, a cruel game his mind was playing on him?

A slow smile escaped his lips as he allowed himself to contemplate the possibility that this apparition was real.

"You came" he eventually managed to mouth inaudibly.

She grinned back, that beautiful smile he had missed so much. _God, she looks good and so happy!_

At that exact moment, he didn't doubt he had made the right decision, the only decision. Putting his happiness and feelings for Sara ahead of his work suddenly opened so many roads. He realised how much she meant to him, how much he had missed her, how much he loved her. Any doubts he might still have harboured were gone. She had given him yet another chance, his last chance, he was convinced of that.

When she had left for the second time, without a word, he had had every intention to go to her, to explain his behaviour, his comments in his office, his refusal to go with her on the trip; but there was always some other problem to deal with, and by the time he had been able to leave work, she was long gone and not picking up his calls.

He had been so sure that once again he was too late. _Not making a decision is making a decision_. When she hadn't replied to his e-mails, he had felt so desperate. Her breaking up had devastated him but it had been the kick up the backside he had needed. She had spoken the truth, a truth that hurt him deeply at the time. He was being a coward in not following his heart.

It had taken all that and the death of Warrick for Grissom to realise that life was too short to let it slip by; the job, the _puzzles_ were starting to lose their attraction, he was viewing the crimes with different eyes, suffering eyes, most cases were now getting to him when only a minority used to, he found it difficult to detach himself and not care.

Had it been like this for Sara during all these years?

No wonder she had burnt out. He had recently been wondering how she had managed to cope for so long but deep down he knew the answer to that. She had stayed for him, sacrificed her own happiness for his, simply because she loved him, until she could not take it anymore when everything got too much. _If I don't, I'm afraid I'll self-destruct, and worse, you'll be there to see it happen._

And after long months of inner turmoil, he had decided to take a risk on life, to give the girl and not the science a chance. He knew her trip to the Pacific on the Sea Shepherd had ended. He had researched it on the internet and knew she was back in San Francisco. _It was my turn to go to her; after all, didn't she come all the way here for me nine years ago?_

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, he stood up abruptly never breaking eye contact with Sara, knocking his chair down in the process, all conversation around him suddenly ceasing, all eyes suddenly focusing on him and when they realised he was staring towards the entrance of the diner, all heads turned simultaneously in the same direction.

Sara tentatively walked towards her friends who were now also grinning and welcoming her back, all talking at once, gesturing for her to join them.

Only one man was silent, still in shock, rooted to the spot, spellbound. He took a few shy steps towards her and opened his arms to gather her in a powerful, almost desperate hug.

"Oh Sara" he murmured hoarsely into her hair, not letting her go. "I can't believe you're here, when you didn't reply, I thought we…" words failed him. "Oh, honey, I've missed you so much."

"Shhh…We'll talk later" she whispered, gently squeezing him back.

He eventually released her as a barrage of questions descended.

"Hey, Sara, when did you get back?" asked Catherine getting up to embrace Sara.

"Oh, just yesterday morning, Catherine, how are you?

"Sara, good to see you" exclaimed Brass, Doc Robbins and Nick at the same time. Sara gave them each in turn a warm hug.

"Hello, I'm Riley. Nice to _finally_ meet you, Sara."

"I've heard a lot about you too" replied Sara smiling, with a slight nod towards Greg.

"You're late" muttered Greg waiting for his turn to hug her.

"You _knew_ she was in town and you didn't say?" Grissom asked in mock anger, with a twinkle in his eye. "You're lucky I can't put you on decomps anymore."

"Sorry boss" mumbled Greg.

"I still can" added Catherine laughing. What was this? Gang up on Greg time?

"Don't be mad, Gil, I asked him not to" Sara added, addressing Grissom, getting hold of his hand while sitting down on the chair he had pulled from the other table. "I heard someone had made level three" she continued, turning towards Greg who graciously took a bow making everyone laugh in the process. "I _had_ to come and congratulate him in person…to see how my _protégé_ fared" she finished, winking at him.

"I bet that's not the only reason" interjected Doc Robbins.

They all chuckled. Sara smiled. "So, tell me Greg, how does it feel to be a level three?"

"Great! Finally, I'll be able to do my own thing! And Grissom is leaving…"

"You'll still have me to answer to, Greg" interrupted Catherine, "and if you …"

But her next words were lost on Grissom as he turned to his left, leaning in closer to Sara, and whispered:

"I'm glad you diverted all the attention from me and onto him."

"For now…" she said teasingly looking at him and giving his hand an affectionate squeeze, _for now_.

**

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Tbc


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you again to everybody for reading, reviewing and putting me and/or the story in their favourites. **

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Not surprising anyone present, Grissom and Sara were the first ones to leave the diner.

But not nearly soon enough – not according to Grissom anyway. For he had been gently tugging at Sara's hand for a while now in an attempt to politely convey to her that he was more than ready to leave the company of their friends. He had done his duty and said his goodbyes and he had got to the point of no longer caring whether he was being rude or not.

She, on the other hand, was quite satisfied to deliberately ignore his not-so-discreet pulls and was prepared to stay for as long as necessary in order to catch up on news about everybody at the lab, demanding to know every little bit of gossip. She would occasionally give him loaded sideway glances, mouth slightly turned up at the corners in a little teasing smile, eyebrows raised innocently questioning what he was up to. He could only shrug in response, looking despondent.

She was letting him stew and he knew it. The meaning of those fleeting looks was very clear to Grissom. _I've waited long enough for you to leave, now it's your turn, dear_. She knew she was been mean to him, but it was his turn to feel what it was like to be the one waiting. She was having far too much fun at his expense.

They had so much to make up for, so many things he wanted to tell her, plans he wanted to discuss with her. He wanted to be alone with her, grab her in his arms and kiss her senseless, make long slow love to her. Images of the two of them kept flashing in his mind, images of all the things he would do to her, and he was struggling to keep his eagerness to himself.

Sadly, he couldn't do any of it – not with everyone there, not with an audience. So he had no choice but sit there quietly, failing miserably at pretending that he was even remotely interested in what was going on around him, letting his thoughts distract him instead.

Eventually, as the conversation went from one topic to the next without any signs of abating, he decided to take drastic action and after what felt like an agonisingly long hour to him, he swiftly got to his feet, pulling Sara up by the elbow at the same time, cutting her off mid-talk with Brass, and hastily gathered her purse and his presents.

"Hum, sorry…" he interrupted, "but we've got to go" he said smiling, blushing slightly for making a show of himself. "Things to do" he added to baffled faces, as conversations stopped.

"I bet" replied Brass with a smirk. Sara smiled and winked at him.

After finally saying their goodbyes to everyone – and that in itself had been endless, as everyone had proceeded to hug Sara again and to give him the occasional pat on the back, as well as some casual and friendly advice from Brass on what to do to keep a good woman, _as if the man knew anything about that_, they managed to leave.

Promising to keep in touch, they gave their friends a final wave and took a slow wander back to the lab's parking lot where Grissom had left his car.

Grissom let out a long sigh. _Well finally, alone with the woman I love._

He took hold of her hand once again, kissed its palm softly, and they started walking, not noticing the people still staring at their retreating forms from inside the diner.

Would they ever see those two again? It was anybody's guess.

Grissom had left. It sounded so final.

He had left it all for a woman. For Sara. It was hard to believe. Who would have thought? But the smiles the people were displaying in the diner said it all. It was clear that they had all been expecting it, one way or another.

Grissom and Sara, on the other hand, only had eyes for each other and were talking animatedly and smiling. Grissom was trying to carry his box of presents under one arm, so as not to let go of Sara's hand. This simple touch, mere physical contact taken for granted at the best of time, was filling his heart with delight.

He was asking about her trip to the Galapagos, about living on the confines of the ship, the people she had met there at the research centre.

She told him about seeing the fauna and flora of the islands, the famous giant tortoises, the most beautiful sun rises and sunsets she had ever seen, about making new friends aboard the ship and on the islands. She mentioned learning new languages or trying to anyway, loving the research she had started there.

She was so animated, her face lit up excitedly when recounting stories of what she had seen, experienced - even at the mention of being terribly seasick in the first few days until she had found her sea legs, and he wasn't able to contain his joy at seeing her like this. It had been years since he had seen her so joyful – elated was maybe a more accurate description and he found it infectious.

"I really wish you could have come, Gil" she added softly after a while. There was no reproach in her statement, just a profound regret that she hadn't been able to share it all with him.

"You know I couldn't" he stated seriously, "besides, there'll be other trips, I promise," he continued more cheerfully, giving her hand another squeeze.

She nodded.

To strangers, they looked like new lovers; they only had eyes for each other, busy rediscovering all about each other, utterly unaware of their surrounding and that they soon reached their destination of Grissom's Mercedes.

Ever the gentleman, Grissom walked round the car to open the door for Sara who softly kissed him thank you on the cheek. He blushed and looked around quickly to check if anyone had noticed. She laughed, shaking her head slowly, as she sat in the passenger seat. _Old habits die hard, don't they?_

But Grissom thought again. It didn't seem to matter to him anymore whether someone would see them or not, so he threw caution to the wind, put his heavy box on the ground and bent down to give her a long lingering kiss back. He had wanted to do that ever since he first set eyes on her earlier in the diner but hadn't dared then, and now he couldn't wait any longer.

"I've missed you" he whispered. He didn't need to say anymore for she felt exactly the same way. She unhurriedly stroked his bearded cheek, enjoying the feel of it, looking up toward him, eyes shining with happiness, face beaming.

"So have I. Let's go home."

It was strange hearing her say that after all this time.

Meanwhile and unbeknown to them, someone had been watching from inside his car, having just returned from a meeting with the Mayor. The person smiled when he saw Grissom kiss Sara, and the love and tenderness they displayed towards each other was obvious even to a cynic like him. _The man has indeed changed, well, who would have thought?_ He looked away and shook his head regretfully for he, or rather the lab, had lost an excellent criminalist.

With a new spring in his step, Grissom picked up the box, shoved it on the back seat, got in, started the engine and turned to face Sara.

"Where to, Madam?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye. "_Greg's_?" he added playfully.

"_Greg's_?" she repeated, arching an eyebrow, mimicking his tone. "What's this, Doctor Grissom? Do I detect a hint of _jealousy_?"

"Me? No, dear." he muttered unconvincingly.

She giggled. He hadn't realised how much he had ached to hear that sound again, how good it felt to see her so untroubled, so carefree.

"I wanted to surprise you" she added tenderly. "I couldn't really stay at the townhouse now, could I?"

"Guess not. Do you want me to drive you there to get your stuff?"

"There's no need. I didn't bring much – in my purse" she finished, patting it for good measure.

"You travel light."

"Not stopping long, I hope." She told him softly.

When they got to the house, he took a moment to really study her standing there by the front door. She was still the same, yet she was different. Physically, she looked younger, radiant, tanned – the sun having brought out the freckles on her face and arms; her hair was even shorter than the last time he had seen her and curlier too. It suited her. She also looked so relaxed, at peace with herself.

He put his key in the lock, turned it and was surprised to hear the clicking of Hank's nails on the hardwood floor, walking towards them and yelping, tail wagging wildly. He looked at Sara with a questioning frown as he opened the door.

"That's strange. I could have sworn I left him at the sitter's last night"

She smiled. "Well, I thought I'd go and surprise you, didn't I?" she said, addressing Hank, as he almost knocked her back in his enthusiasm to greet her, and giving him a good rub around the ears. Hank returned her affection, nuzzling her hand, giving it an affectionate lick. "Cheer him up a bit, you know" she continued looking at Grissom. "Wouldn't let me leave the sitter's without him, so I brought him home before joining you at Frank's."

"Ah! I see. That's why Greg kept looking at his watch." He bent down to give Hank a stroke. "He's missed you as well" he finished softly, stepping in and closing the door behind them.

The quiet and stillness of the townhouse enveloped them and they stood in silence by the door, Hank now obediently sat by his masters' feet.

"I couldn't help noticing all the boxes when I came round before and your travel bags by the door" she said innocently, scanning the lounge. "Going anywhere?"

"I was…going to take a trip" he replied deadpan.

"You know, your new fishing rod will go nicely with that old straw hat of yours" she said raising her eyebrows, picking up the offending article from the hallway table and putting it on.

"Making fun of my hat?"

"I wouldn't dare" she added with a cheeky grin. "You know I've never been fishing..."

"Come here" whispered Grissom, slowly pulling her in his arms, removing the hat and throwing it across the room like a frisbee. He took a moment to breathe in the scent of her hair and let out a long contented sigh. As he released her, she took his hand in hers and led him down the stairs towards the open-plan kitchen. He stopped in his tracks, something on the counter having caught his eye.

"What's this?" he asked nodding towards the packet.

"Open it."

"Wow, it's heavy! ... Sara! How did you get this?" he asked with all the excitement of a child on Christmas day. "A saddle-backed tortoise shell! This is a perfect specimen, too! One in this condition and so beautiful, it's very rare…" he stopped suddenly turning round to face her. "How did you get it through customs?"

"I had my way…"

He simply raised his eyebrows, questioning, "_Sara_…"

"_What?_… I said I was a scientist and …fine!" she conceded finally, registering the look of disbelief on his face. "They never asked, so I never told them…" She knew she shouldn't have done it, that these were protected species but she hadn't been able to resist, just to see the look on his face. She decided to try a different approach. "You know the oldest one is nearly four hundred years old?"

"Lonesome George" he replied with a knowing smile, "I read about him in..."

"I met him" she interrupted. "They keep him at the research centre now. He's huge. This is the shell of a baby tortoise unfortunately attacked and eaten by an island hawk…I found it when I was trekking on Pinta Island one morning. Made me think of you" she added timidly.

"We should go back" he added pensively after a while.

"Where to? The diner?" she asked puzzled.

He laughed. "No, back to the Pacific, together."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?"

He looked at her gravely before saying: "Deadly, I've wasted too much time and I want to make it up."

When she didn't reply, he continued: "You know, if _you_ hadn't come, Hank and I'd have been a third of our way to San Francisco by now, you know to …to win you back, the movers are coming back tomorrow to put the rest of the stuff in storage, I left the spare key with Catherine. She said she'd keep an eye on the place until we decide…you know…" he trailed off hesitantly before telling her, "either way, there's no turning back now."

"Going all the way, huh?"

"Honey, as far as it takes" finished Grissom.

**

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Is this a good place to leave the story?

**Just kidding, things are hotting up in the next chapter!**

**I will need to change the rating to M, though. So if it is going to be a problem, or anyone object, please let me know.**

**Please, leave a review and you might get me to post sooner… **


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: The rating has been changed to T to be on the safe side. For some obscure resason, I've had to repost the chapter, sorry if you've already read it!**

**This is a longer chapter, ****I didn't have the heart to split it, enjoy! **

**I thought I'd post this before tomorrow night's episode, Grissom's last one – the reason why this story exists, hope it brings a bit of comfort!**

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"Going all the way, huh?"

"Honey, as far as it takes" finished Grissom.

He tilted his head towards hers, holding her gaze for a few seconds. There was so much unspoken promise in his eyes – about leaving this city, about their future together anywhere else but in Vegas. How would he ever prove to her that he was serious about them, that he had left his old life behind, that he was ready to make a fresh start with her, anywhere as long as they were together?

Over the previous year, he had forgotten what it felt like to be with her, how happy, complete she made him feel, sharing her life with him. Her newly-found enthusiasm for life was contagious. She had only been back into his life a few hours and already his mood had lifted.

Since her departure, he had forgotten what it felt like to feel something other than pain and suffering everyday.

Pain because it is his job to face death everyday and he simply _can't _do it anymore and worse, doesn't care for it as much; pain because the one person he considered a son died in his arms and there was nothing he could do to protect him, save him. And pain because he can't share any of what he is going through with the only person who would understand, the only person he has ever allowed himself to love and be loved by.

How could he ever manage to convey it all through one look?

But he could see in the warm, compassionate way she returned his stare, when he looked deep into her soul that she understood it all, that he didn't need words to explain his feelings, because she had experienced it first, and she recognised it was his turn now to have no choice but leave.

As for now, there was no mistaking his intentions. He moved his hand to cup her face and softly brushed her warm lips with his, once, twice, three times, teasing her. He quickly pulled back from her, his mouth inches from hers, almost smirking, gauging her reaction.

_Oh! That's the game he is playing. Well, two can play that game._

She gasped and kissed him back in earnest, with an intensity that took him by surprise. That is all the encouragement he needed to deepen his kiss. Her soft lips parted instinctively making room for his searching tongue. The pressure and weight of his body made her lose her balance and she took a few clumsy steps back towards the kitchen counter.

He suddenly stopped, forehead touching hers, eyes full of yearning. He could have chosen to make love to her there and then on the counter but instead took her hand in his, hesitated a moment and when he saw her slowly nod in acquiescence, led her almost shyly towards the bedroom.

They would have plenty of time for sex; what he wanted, needed, no, what he craved for now, for their first time together in many, many lonely months, was unrushed love making.

No words passed their lips.

When he got to the bedroom, he stopped abruptly remembering that, as well as all of the rest of his belonging had been boxed, the bed had been taken apart too, its mattress discarded in one corner of the room. _Damn!_

"Oh, shit, Sara. I'm so sorry," he muttered turning to face her, downcast, "but…"

She laughed.

"What's the matter, Gil? Stage fright?" she asked mischievously.

"I…" It wasn't very often that Grissom was lost for words. How was he going to explain that there was no bed, hell there wasn't even a couch any more – that had already gone in storage along with his bulkier furniture, how could he explain that he couldn't have dreamed her presence there and now?

She wordlessly put one finger on his lips to stop him from speaking further and pushed the door open for him to go in anyway.

He entered and looked back at her, stunned, a slow smile forming in one corner of his mouth when he took in the scene.

"I see you've been busy" he whispered, cocking an eyebrow, taking her hand and heading into the room.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, shrugged his shoulders in answer to her questioning look and by way of explanation simply said: "Hank."

She just nodded her head, eyes smiling with happiness, and walked towards the makeshift bed – she had found some bed-linen in a box nearby to cover the mattress on the floor, and laid down on it seductively, still holding his hand and gently pulling him down on top of her.

He would take his time to rediscover every inch of her body, every freckle on her skin, every curve of her figure. He had had seven long months of waiting, of longing since he last had seen her, seven months since he had last touched her, even longer since the last time they had been intimate – maybe a few weeks before Warrick's death when they had all gathered for the very last time.

Touching, caressing someone's face via a computer screen, however many times you did it, sadly did not count.

He was gazing at her with such unrestrained intensity that she was overwhelmed by the love shining through and her eyes misted over. She was used to him guarding his feelings, protecting his emotions, keeping them closed-off – even from her, hardly ever letting her into his deepest thoughts. Seeing through to his soul was somewhat disconcerting. It wasn't something she was prepared for. He had spoken on many occasions in the last few months about having changed, about being different but she hadn't seen it first hand.

Not until now.

He started his kissing slow; beginning by kissing away the moisture that had formed in the corner of her eyes. He continued his journey down the side of her face to the area of her neck just below the ear, and slowly meandered trailing kisses from the tan line on her shoulder all the way down her arm, to the pressure point on her wrist and lingered there.

She shivered.

There, he wound his way back up and delicately moved the strap of her top to have better access to her neck.

She stopped him just long enough for her to remove her top and his with trembling hands.

He continued his exploration of her neck as if for the first time. The sound of her soft moans calling out his name and the sight of her writhing body under his wereexhilarating. After her neck, he proceeded to lick and gently nibble his way down her heaving chest.

"Oh, Sara" he gasped, breath caught in his throat, unable to contain his longing.

She shushed him quiet with a kiss which she deepened, hands pulling his face closer, fingers playing with the soft curls of his hair.

His beard felt rough on her freckled suntanned skin but surprisingly, it only heightened her pleasure as she arched her back up towards him in response.

He had an erection from heaven.

He rose up on one forearm and started undoing the belt of his trousers, awkwardly shaking them off, pulling his boxers down with them to reveal the full extent of his need for her.

He then collapsed on top of her laughing as his trousers got stuck around his knees in his haste to remove them.

"Sorry…I'm a bit out of practice" he whispered to her muffled chuckles, pushing his chest up away from her face.

She stared at him languorously and reached her hand to stroke his face taking her time to look at him, to study him, to demonstrate through her eyes all the love she felt for him.

When she couldn't contain her anticipation any longer, she quickly spun him round so she was now on top of him, astride, and she moved to take off the remainder of her clothing. She was watching him shyly now, captivated, heart pounding in her chest.

"Kiss me" he demanded in a whisper, smiling at her, inviting.

Her lips hit his like a force nine gust on a cliff top. One moment all had been calm, then the next, her hands were pressing his bearded cheeks so that his mouth yielded and was suddenly filled with her cool, damp tongue.

The sexual kick was fantastic.

What she was doing to him now was absolutely thrilling. He gripped tightly onto the bed sheets and abandoned himself to incredible pleasure.

He had never dreamed she would respond to his suggestion with such exciting, eager passion. Their lovemaking had been far more tender in the past, less ardent but he was starting to like this new, more forceful and yes, definitely more sexy Sara.

Not only was she the most beautiful thing he had ever seen but she was driving him wild with excitement.

He returned her kisses with such force, he heard her moan in pleasure and saw her close her eyes in reckless abandon. His hand had moved to her breasts now, shy fingers taking their time to stroke each one in turn, while the other hand was trying to pull his body up in an attempt to reach up to kiss them and alternately tease her nipples with the tip of his tongue.

"Gil, that's fantastic" she groaned, "don't stop."

His hand was now slowly winding its way down to caress her stomach, and then her inner thigh. Sara wriggled against him, still on top, leaning back to get a better feel of him. She wanted him inside her now.

She lowered her own hand between her legs to guide his erection inside her and started to gently sway her body.

"Now, please" she pleaded.

He picked up the pace, gripping her hips tightly. She was matching his movements with practised harmony, her body naturally responding to his with the ease of familiar lovemaking.

"God, Sara, you're so beautiful!" he groaned thrusting harder still.

With those simple whispered words, she came as she had never before. To him, she was a vision from heaven, face lit by the sunlight filtering through the blinds. He wasn't far behind her with his release.

As she finally collapsed on top of him, breathing as fast and as hard as a marathon runner who has just crossed the finishing line, he was broadly grinning at her, reaching, pulling her face down towards him to deposit a myriad of small kisses all over her face.

"Sara, I … I love you, more than you'll ever know" he told her shyly. "I'm sorry for…"

"Shhh…I know. It doesn't matter now" she replied, rolling off him to snuggle on his shoulder, arm on his chest, fingers playing with the greying curls of the hairs there. "What matters is that we've found each other again."

He nodded.

After a moment, he began to absent-mindedly stroke the soft and slightly damp curls of her hair, eyes closed, and face turned up towards the ceiling.

"My life has been empty without you in it. I should have never let you go the way I did, you know…after the funeral."

She gasped in surprise at his words, propping herself up on one elbow and turning her face towards him, she said: "Gil, you had no choice. I couldn't stay, you couldn't leave. That's all there is to it. It wasn't the right time. I shouldn't have put you in that situation. I'm the one who should apologise, not you."

"What ever for?" he asked puzzled, opening his eyes to find her staring at him. He lifted his free hand to stroke her cheek.

"For leaving the way I did, for not replying to your messages, for giving up on us and not giving us a chance…"

"Honey, no…no, _I_ did all that, not you. I didn't understand until it was too late. I can see that now. _You_ had no choice. You had to put yourself first…God knows I should have…"

"Stop" she said gently, "I love you, Gil. Never doubt that. No more apologies, not for the past; just…new beginnings."

He nodded, smiling a warm reassuring smile, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. After a while, he closed his eyes once again in silent contemplation, comfortable, happy.

His mind was restless, sleep wouldn't come. All the tiredness and weariness he had felt at the end of shift had gone and had been replaced by a new raw energy. An idea was nagging at him, wouldn't leave him alone so he allowed his mind freedom to wander and he started planning, plotting his next move.

He didn't even notice that her breathing had evened out, that she had quietly dozed off in his arms, face turned towards him.

Out of the blue, after what could have been five minutes or an hour, he sat up abruptly, blue eyes twinkling, grinning. _That's it! _He nodded his head in silent approval of his plan and inadvertently jerked her out of her sleep.

"That's it!" he exclaimed again out loud this time.

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Tbc.

**Please, feedback is appreciated. I was/ still am very unsure about posting this chapter. It's my first – and probably will be my only attempt at writing this kind of **_**stuff**_**. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Wasn't it just the best ending, last night? **

**For the last two chapters, I've tried to portray a younger, happier, carefree and more spontaneous Grissom (Grissom of season 1) – his turmoil is over and he's got his girl back… **

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"That's it!" he exclaimed again out loud this time.

"Uh? Gil? You all right?" Sara asked, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"What? Yeah, great, better than that in fact…" he replied distractedly.

He had stumbled upon the craziest, most wonderful, inspired idea he had had in a long time. It was just perfect.

There was one more place he needed to take her to before they left Vegas for their new life. One more place, one last time.

"I know that look…_Gilbert_…What are you up to?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he jumped up abruptly, got off the mattress and turned to look at her naked form on top of the covers, sun light casting shadows over her lazily stretched body and gave her his most mysterious smile, eyebrows arched in _a wouldn't you like to know_ frown. He was failing not to let the rush of his thrill show.

"Gil! Tell me what…"

He blew her a kiss, skipping out of the room with newly found enthusiasm.

"Stay where you are, don't move. I'll be right back" he called out to her from the corridor.

"All right" she said laughing.

She hadn't seen him this giddy with excitement for anything – well, not related to work, teaching or bugs anyway, in ages, maybe even years. _Oh, please, let it not be anything to do with bugs or worse a trip to the body farm! _

She heard him curse, mutter something under his breath, rummage through a few boxes and he soon came back, grinning, holding something in his hand, startling her out of her daydream.

"I knew I still had it" he said waving a small card-like document in his hand.

"What's that?"

"Nothing that concerns you, dear. Come on, get dressed, we're going out."

"What? Now?" she asked, watching him hurriedly picking up all his clothes – his work clothes, discarded in a heap on the floor. He thought again, threw them back down by his feet and left her once again. He returned a couple of minutes later carrying his travel bag.

She hadn't moved.

"Is that your idea of after-sex _cuddling?_" she asked mockingly.

"What?" he responded absent-mindedly. He proceeded to pull out his old blue jeans and navy polo shirt out of the bag. "No. Come on, get dressed!"

"Why? Where are we going? There's no rush to leave. We can head off later in the day…I'm sure I can manage a little longer here" she finished, patting the still warm but empty space next to her, her smile disappearing when she saw he was already dressed, tucking his mystery document in his back pocket.

"As much as I love what you're suggesting, Miss Sidle, I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass."

"Is this how it's going to be from now on?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"What do I need to do to get you out of bed? Come on…" he pleaded throwing her bra at her. "Please…we've got somewhere to be."

"Do I need to get changed? I haven't brought much with me…"

"No, Sara. What you had on before's perfectly adequate." He was trying his hardest to be patient. _Why couldn't she just be dressed already?_

"Do I have time for a quick shower?"

"_Sara..._ Quit stalling! Five minutes. That's all you're getting. No arguing. Just long enough for me to let Hank out in the yard for a pee."

"All right." She blew a kiss to his retreating form. She liked a playful Grissom. No, cross that. She loved a playful Grissom. She had missed this – their easy banter, his light-heartedness, the glint in his eyes.

Not since he'd taken her along to a ball game he was going to with Warrick – they weren't together yet then, had she seen him so animated, so desperate to get somewhere fast. She remembered the occasion so clearly, for throughout the game, he had endeavoured to prove to her that baseball was indeed a beautiful game…

She wondered what he had up his sleeve for her this time.

***********

They soon were on their way, leaving Hank yelping behind, promising to come back for him before their final journey.

"We're not going far, it's only a forty minute drive out" said Grissom, reversing the car out of the drive.

She nodded.

They quickly joined the I-15 heading south on the highway, leaving the lights and the traffic of the city well behind them. Grissom kept to the speed limit but his fingers were repeatedly tapping the steering wheel in impatience. She found all this highly comical, yet oddly compelling and certainly very infectious. She was getting caught up in his enthusiasm, desperate to find out where they were going.

She was sporting a broad grin. It wasn't for lack of trying to weed out information from him but he had his poker face on and was keeping schtum, simply not budging and refusing to tell her their mystery destination or give her any clues.

There was nothing for her to do but look out the window, and she was soon mesmerised by the moving scenery. They had now reached the desert and if she hadn't been out there to so many crime scenes in the past she would have probably appreciated the beauty of the landscape more. The desert stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions until it met the red scraggly hills in the distance ahead.

"You are so going to enjoy this" he said after a while in companionable silence. He was rubbing his hands in delight. "I'm so looking forward to this. We're almost there" he grinned, turning to look at her. "I can't believe I've never thought of this before!"

_So I've never been here before…with him anyway_

They were nearing the state line, the border with California. She knew that because of the many times she had driven this route back to California over the years. There was nothing there apart from desert and Primm.

_Primm_. _Why do I have the feeling that it should mean more to me?_

Why did the place sound familiar to her? She was sure that she had never _been_ out there in all her years in Vegas and yet the place was strangely familiar to her.

Soon after, deep in thought and still trying to figure out their destination, she fell asleep, lulled by the monotony of the landscape, the humming of the engine and the faint music of the radio playing in the background.

Seeing the outline of the first buildings ahead in the distance, Grissom turned to point it out to her:

"Sara, look! You're gonna love this…" he exclaimed but instead of getting a reply he was met by the sight of her head gently lolling on the headrest.

"Perfect!" he muttered smiling indulgently to himself, taking a right turn exiting the I-15 heading towards the outskirts of Primm.

"Hum…How long have I been asleep? Are we there yet?" she asked puzzlement written all over her face, rousing from her doze as he pulled in a car park.

"Not long. You'll see" he answered a little too sheepishly for her taste, not looking at her. _Maybe, it's not such a good idea to come here_ he thought noticing the unmistakable steely structure in the distance.

_What does he have in store for me now?_ she wondered looking worryingly at him.

And then she saw it_, saw it_, there in front of her. You couldn't miss it. How could she not have remembered?

_Of course, Primm!_

What she saw left her speechless. She laughed or she tried to, but what came out was more a strangled croak.

Her voice was caught in her throat. She didn't dare look at him for fear he might mock her.

_Oh, he wouldn't dare, would he?_

She wasn't frightened…no, apprehensive maybe, but scared no. However, her last encounter with one of them told her that…

"Are you sure about this?" she asked shaking her head, while he was busy finding a spot in the busy car park.

"You're gonna love it, Sara, I guarantee it" he said reassuringly giving her hand a squeeze.

"Oh, you do, do you?" she asked looking up towards the huge illuminated letters in the deep blue cloudless sky.

"Do you trust me?" he countered.

Her lips twitched with an amused smile.

"With my life" she replied. And god, was that the precise thing to say.

**

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Tbc.

**Where do you think he's taken her? I'd be interested to know whether I've given the game away… One more chapter to go…leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**This is the final chapter. Thanks to everyone for reading, especially those of you who have taken the time to review and give me feedback. It's greatly appreciated.**

**I hope you have enjoyed reading the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.**

**Some reference and dialogue borrowed from 421 'Turn of the screws'.**

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"Gilbert, are you insane? That's… a death trap." Her lips were twitching in a desperate attempt to keep a straight face.

"It's perfectly safe. I've been on it loads of time. You know, statistically, riding a coaster is _the_ safest mode of transport."

_He sounds like he believes it too!_

She just glared at him but he could make out a little pursing in the corners of her mouth. _Ah! Ah! Yet again her face gives the game away! _he thought. She had never been very adept at concealing her feelings and he could tell she was only playing devil's advocate.

She got out of the car, transfixed, she didn't even wait for him to come round to open the door for her – normally, he would always insist.

She just got out of the car, staring blindly at the casino complex in front of her.

The incredibly tall, meandering yellow track contrasting against the deep blue of the sky was unmissable, unmistakable. The giant illuminated lettering spelt D E S P E R A D O, as if the word was suspended in the air.

"You know," he said coming round to her side of the car, "I rode the Desperado my first week in Vegas." He was behaving like a kid, his face wreathed in shy smiles, his blue eyes glinting with barely suppressed excitement.

She nodded, now gawking at the tiny, ant-like train winding its way round the rickety track. She could hear the people screaming, and then see them disappear out of sight, into what she could only assume was a tunnel of some sort.

"I've never even ridden one" she mused, unable to tear her eyes away from the still careering train.

"I know. I can't believe I've never taken you before! Now's the time to start. New beginnings, remember?"

Truth be told, she had never expressed an interest. It's not something she had done as a child – well not with her real or foster families anyway. It's just not something she thought she would enjoy and she had seen first hand the consequences if an accident were to occur.

She knew however that it was part of his relaxation ritual, that it was a hobby Grissom partook on occasion at the end of particularly gruelling shifts, when he needed to seek solace, when he needed a quick thrill, a reprieve from the work. Warrick had let slip to Sara once that he had been privileged to have shared with Grissom a rare moment in his boss's private ritual, when Grissom had taken him on the New York, New York in Las Vegas.

Well, she had never had the chance – not until now.

She was still rooted to the spot, mesmerised in bewilderment when something suddenly occurred to her.

_Wait a minute!_

She swiftly reached into his back pocket and extracted the card he had tucked in there.

"You've got a season pass?"

He shrugged. A dark shadow flashed in front of his eyes. "Lately, I've been going again…you know…since…" he let his words trail.

"The closest I've been to one was 'The Pharaoh's Fever' at The Sphinx, remember the case?" she asked turning towards him, changing topic, hoping to recapture his happy mood.

"Sure, the first and up to now only coaster to have derailed in Clark County."

"Exactly my point."

"Honey, don't let that put you off." He softly kissed her on the temple in reassurance, placing his arm around her shoulders and started to walk towards the entrance of the casino.

His smiles and child-like enthusiasm were infectious and were spreading to her now as she found herself quickening her pace to match his.

"Hey, talking of 'The Pharaoh's Fever'…you know what this reminds me of?" she carried on, trying to hide the hint of an amused chuckle.

A slow smile formed on his lips, he quirked an eyebrow, interest piqued. Of course he remembered and all too well. _Sex on a roller coaster. _What had possessed him that day?

He waited for her to continue, not rising at the bait.

"I believe your exact words were and I quote 'the release of epinephrine and adrenaline while riding a roller coaster can produce a stimulatory effect. It enhances ejaculation'. I wonder what it does for…"

_Trust her to remember everything I say!_

"Do you want something to eat?" he interrupted, blushing slightly, hoping to change tack, motioning towards a vendor.

"Is that a good idea?" she asked pointing at the train carrying its next load of thrill-seeking customers. "Come on bug man, I'll give you your money's worth!"

When they got into the casino, the place was heaving. Grissom tightened his hold of Sara so not as to get separated in the crowd. There seemed to be some kind of convention or maybe a tournament of some sort. When they got to the loading bay, the sign at the back of the queue informed them that it would take a good half-hour before their turn.

Sara happily joined the queue – the delay would give her a bit longer to get used to the thought of riding the roller coaster but Grissom had other ideas and promptly excused himself. Not thinking anything of it, Sara picked up a leaflet from a stand, turned it over and started to read.

"The Desperado does not loop, invert or otherwise tip its riders upside down." _Well, that's something,_ she thought in hope. "The mission here is to terrorize with sheer height and speed. The initial drop, which enters a disorienting lights-out tunnel at ground level, is certainly panic inducing, but not necessarily the most terrifying feature of the ride…" she abruptly stopped reading mid-way through, fear in her eyes looking for Grissom.

_Oh! My god!_

"What have you got there?" he asked, returning to her side and pulling the leaflet out of her hands. He started to frown when he caught a glimpse of the panicked look Sara was casting at him. He gave the pamphlet a customary glance and her, an amused shake of the head. He took his time to screw the leaflet into a tight ball and threw it the trash.

"You can't believe everything you read, Sara…"

"Oh! Come on, Gil, even you got to admit this can be _a little_ scary for someone like me!"

"_Someone like you_?" He was struggling to contain his amusement and laughed out loud. Not very discreetly, the people in front had turned around to watch their gentle banter.

"What? A woman?" he asked teasingly, smiling at the couple in front. "Oh…" he amended, "a novice … I see…Do I detect a hint of fear in your voice?"

"Don't you dare _mock_ me!" she said in good spirit, punching him softly on the shoulder.

"I'm not. Come on, this way" he said eventually, manoeuvring her past the stationary crowd, "one of the advantages of having a pass is that you get to go to the front of the line, my dear" he added rather smugly. "Another one is that you can take a friend along…I've just been to pay for your ticket."

"I can see why, when they designed it, they chose to put the loading bay indoors," Sara mused after a while, for there was also a queue in the priority line – albeit much shorter. "I guess it stops you from worrying about what might happen…"

"It's to keep you guessing, wondering; to keep the suspense" he cut in eagerly. "That way you don't know what's gonna spring at you. A good coaster is designed to enhance your sense …"

But his words were interrupted by the ride operator in charge of loading the cars. Sara hoped he had had more training than that poor teenager at the 'Pharaoh's Fever'.

Fortunately for Grissom but regrettably for Sara, they got the two front seats on the first car.

After locking the lap bar into the down position, Grissom got hold of Sara's hand and decided to share a little advice on how to make the most of the experience.

"Sara, keep you eyes open, enjoy the view, it's beautiful out there…Let the roller coaster do its magic. This _is_ fun, isn't it?"

Her reply got muffled by the sound of the siren, warning of impending departure but her questioning glance relayed the message clearly.

The ride soon jerked forward at slow speed, entered a short tunnel and on exit proceeded to start the slow climb to the top of the first hill. As the coaster made its sluggish incline, Grissom started to speak.

"Isn't this just breathtaking?" he said pointing ahead towards the mountains. From their vintage point, they could take in the entire Primm Valley.

Sara started to relax, forgetting where she was, lovingly holding on to Grissom's hand, losing herself in the view, fascinated by the beauty of the scenery. It was a beautiful, windless day. The blue sky was a brilliant contrast against the red brick of the mountains.

But her reprieve was shortly lived as they soon reached the summit and she found herself barrelling down at an incline so steep she couldn't see the track below.

She let out a scream. She hadn't meant to, it was completely out of her control. It was the loudest scream Grissom had ever heard. It was more than a scream; it was part shriek of terror, part squeal of delight.

She could feel the rush of the wind in her hair, on her face. She was doing her utmost to keep her eyes open despite the tears forming there because of the cool wind. The sensations alone were mind-blowing. She was holding onto the safety bar for dear life, so tightly her knuckles were white. God knows if Grissom's hand was faring any better but he was too busy watching her, observing every little change in her face and expression to care.

They soon propelled into the infamous dark tunnel described in the leaflet. Just as she was starting to catch her breath and thought she would give Grissom a quick nod and smile to show she was enjoying herself, they reached the ascent to the second hill.

"You all right?" he shouted over the noise the roller coaster was making, clack-clacking its way up the steep hill.

She nodded her head, her smile widening in response and looking ahead in the distance. She then felt the tell-tale pause before the downward rush began again. She tried to let go of his hand to grip the lap bar tighter but he refused to relinquish his hold of it as they plummeted more than 155 feet.

A twist and then the camel back hills – as he would tell her later, leading to the front of the ride, provided plenty of 'airtime', the thrilling zero-gravity sensation of floating off your seat. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her system.

She could also feel her stomach churning. Her face scrunched in response. She was smiling but not her usual smile. It resembled more a grimace, that thing she always did in order to suppress the gag reflex.

He was still watching her every reaction and he smiled indulgently, noticing the slight change in her face, recognising the obvious signs of her queasiness. He had seen it so often in the past when she had tried to pretend that the stench of rotting flesh of decomposing bodies was not getting to her.

_God, I love her so much. She fills my heart with so much joy. She is my heart and I never realised it until now – she's doing this, and she is doing it for me._

At that particular time, in that particular spot, feeling weightless in his seat, time stood still, and it dawned on him that now was just the perfect time to put his next plan into motion.

So he mustered all his courage, tried to lean slightly nearer her despite the G-force pushing against him and echoing words of a past life, nervously asked: "Sara, will you marry me?"

All of a sudden, however, the ride went into a spiral, through a man-made mountain and before they knew it they were back to the safety of the loading bay and the casino.

The ride stopped as abruptly as it had begun, the train getting to a sudden halt, jerking hem forward. She could feel her pulse trying to catch up but she felt surprisingly energised.

"2min and 43sec, Sara, and with a speed of 90 miles per hour at its peak. That's all it took. What else gives you such a thrill?" he exclaimed, grinning while pushing back the safety bar and silently rubbing his sore hand.

_I'm sure I can think of other ways!_ She raised an eyebrow and shook her head in amusement. Who else but Grissom would fail to see the irony of his comment? She couldn't help but return the grin.

"Did I do that?" she inquired innocently taking his hand in hers and rubbing it gently.

"So?" he inquired shyly helping her out of the car, swallowing back the knot that had formed in his throat.

"I loved it, Gil; I thought I was gonna be sick for just a moment there but you know I did my thing and God, it was just _so unreal_."

His brow furrowed. _She can't have heard me; I should have timed it better._

But when she saw his face close off slightly, his smile disappear behind a shadow of doubt, she didn't have the heart to keep the pretence any longer so she beamed her most beautiful smile at him, rose on her tip-toes lacing her arms around his neck as if she was about to kiss him, but instead she uttered very quietly:

"Gil, you _know_ I'd love to."

He opened his eyes wider in shock to look at the most beautiful face, the most beautiful grin belonging to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He returned her smile and unexpectedly proceeded to lift her up from the ground and twirl her around in delight.

When he put her down, she pulled him close and kissed him hard and when they had finished, she whispered in his ear:

"Come on, let's do it again!"

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The end.


End file.
